


Everything else would be overrated

by megyal



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Humor, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-14
Updated: 2008-10-14
Packaged: 2017-10-29 12:59:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from a Gavin Degraw song.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Everything else would be overrated

**Author's Note:**

> Title from a Gavin Degraw song.

Andy has his head between his knees when Pete makes the doctor sign at least forty thousand documents.

"Sign here," Pete says smoothly, looking and sounding like some slick young lawyer. "And... _here_."

In the meanwhile, Andy wants to die. The ground, he thinks, can open up and swallow him now.

"Mr. Wentz, I am a highly respected medical _professional_. I assure you that I will not say a _word_ about your friend's... condition." The doctor is a tiny old man, tinier than _Patrick_ , and his bald head is shining with sweat as he signs another long form.

"Right." Pete sounds unconvinced. "Sign here? And here. Awesome."

"Andy?" Patrick's warm hand rests on Andy's tense, hunched back; Andy reaches around, takes his hand by the wrist and flicks it away. "Andy, come on, man."

"I think I'm having a panic attack," Andy informs the room in general. "So leave me alone."

"It's not the end of the world," Pete says, watching the doctor sign with a sharp eye. "You didn't have a panic attack when we first found out, why have one now?"

He's having one _now_ , because it hadn't been real until he saw all the final results on paper. Under Joe's surprisingly insistent prodding, he'd undergone preliminary tests to determine his sudden exhaustion, the constant nausea, the general malaise that had come over him, much more worse than the normal side-effects of touring; those preliminary tests been... ok, _preliminary_ , and therefore, flights of everyone's imagination. These final tests were damning in their confirmation about Andy's strange internal make-up and he's going to pitch a fit now, thanks.

Ashlee is on the other side of him, her expression extremely understanding as she bounces their active baby in her lap. When she puts _her_ hand on his back, Andy considers pushing it off as well; but she actually knows what's happening to him. She's been here before, so he leaves it alone.

Andy turns his head a little and looks at the Wentzlet, who gazes back with bright eyes. Andy thinks he looks a little insane. Do all babies look that crazy? "I'm going to have a _baby_ ," he says, voice spiraling up and out of control. "Me. I'm not built for this."

"Yes, well. You weren't built to have sex with another man, either," the doctor says with prim disapproval.

"Shut up and sign here," Pete says, not unkindly, and the doctor sighs, the pen scratching across the non-disclosure agreements.

"What do you think Matt's going to say when he finds out?" Joe asks tentatively from the furthest corner, as if Andy's new condition is highly contagious. "Like, after he stops laughing?"

Andy contemplates this.

"He's going to faint," he finally says. "Definitely faint. Okay, stop bugging me, all of you. I'm freaking out here."

 

* * *

 

So Matt fainted dead away, for real. But seriously. Who wouldn't?

"I would," Patrick admits from the armchair while Andy wanders past in search of something to eat. Matt is lying on the long sofa, an elbow flung over his eyes and making low, long-suffering moans. Because, even a week after finding out, he's still having heart palpitations. Also, he might have hit his head pretty hard going down. "I mean, just think about it. A baby. Wow."

 

* * *

 

"Mutant genes," is all Andy said when Matt finally floated up out of his faint. He was perched at the breakfast counter, looking down at Matt from atop one of the stool, the expression in his eyes extremely collected and cool. Matt considered fainting again and Andy poked him warningly with one toe. From here, Matt could see the edge of the yellow folder that had all of Andy's medical tests neatly filed; Matt groaned and wished he could return to the safe haven of unconsciousness.

"So your mutant power is fucking _fertility_?!" Head throbbing, Matt glared up at Andy, who scowled back, not appearing so calm anymore. "You could have told me this! Like, when we first met! Something simple, like, ' _Oh, dude, I got me a few girl parts on the interior. If we ever have the sex, I'd totally get knocked up_.'"

"Oh, yeah, Matt, sure. I'd have given you my fucking genetic chart and all the tests I did _last week_ and outlined _everything_ for you. Because I _knew_ when we first fucked." Andy kicked him in his ribs and Matt grabbed his foot, forgetting himself completely in his confused anger. He yanked hard and Andy yelped as he slid off the stool and tumbled on the floor, half on top of Matt.

Matt was instantly horrified, grabbing Andy around his waist. Oh god, the baby.

 _Their_ baby.

"Shit, are you--" Matt sucked in a breath as Andy pulled back his arm awkwardly and punched him right in the stomach. "Oh. Oh, you fuckhead."

"You're the fuckhead," Andy snarled, struggling to sit up. "You know what? If it's going to be a problem for you, that's fine. My mother raised me all by herself and I turned out okay, so it's gonna be fine."

"Don't be a _dick_ , you're nowhere _near_ okay," Matt hissed and wrapped his arms around Andy's back. Andy punched him again. "Hurley, stop that, stop hitting me, man! Fucking hurts!"

"Good." Andy stared down at Matt's face, and he closed his eyes for a long moment, looking exhausted all of a sudden. "Matt."

"Yeah?" Matt rubbed his back almost without thinking. Andy relaxed slowly against him, tucking his face into the crook of Matt's neck and sighing deeply, sending a tickling breath across Matt's skin.

"I need you to not freak out too much," Andy muttered, clutching the front of Matt's shirt tightly. "Please."

"You have to give me some time, man," Matt pointed out. "You just come up to me and spout out this long explanation about vest... vesti..."

"Vestigial hermaphrodite characteristics."

"Yeah, that, and the whole thing ends up with, _Oh yeah and I'm pregnant, it's yours_ , and you don't want me to freak out?" Matt raised the hand that wasn't moving in comforting circles between Andy's shoulder-blades and pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. "I don't know, man. Why aren't _you_ freaking out?"

"I've done all my freaking out already, I had a huge meltdown last week--"

"Oh, ok, sweet, you had all time you needed to get used to this before you tell me, that's _nice_ \--"

"--and now I just have to get through it." He pressed his mouth against Matt's neck and that wasn't fair at all, because he _knew_ that all of Matt's willpower was connected to that exact point. "I just need you," he said quietly and if Matt hadn't been _completely_ taken by this fierce little vegan dude from a long before now, he would have been hooked right about now.

"Hey," he said, turning his head. "I'm still here, right?" He smiled a little, still feeling wobbly in the head about the whole thing and made a surprised sound when Andy kissed him soundly. "Um. See, this is what caused all the trouble in the first place, all this pregnant trouble," Matt felt the need to point out as Andy slipped a hand under his shirt, fingers brushing across a nipple, already crinkling under Andy's touch. Damn traitor-nipple.

"Yeah, you kissed me first," Andy said and kissed him again, just to make a point. "If you didn't kiss me, then we wouldn't have had sex and this wouldn't have happened."

"It's not my fault you're easy. Besides, you were making the eyes at me." Matt groaned as Andy pressed his hips down. "Big, _take-me-now-Mixon_ eyes. Huge--"

"Oh no, my eyes!" Someone screamed from above them, and there was the sound of stampeding feet and loud hollering.

"They're home early." Andy sat back and allowed Matt to struggle up as well.

"There are like a million rooms in this house!" Someone else yelled; it sounded like Kyle. "Find one and stick to it!"

"You tell them yet?" Matt watched him as he got up, looking to see if his stomach looked any different. Andy stretched; he looked just about the same.

Andy shook his head, rolling his shoulders. "Pete and Joe and Patrick, yeah. But only you and them, so far." Andy sighed, and shrugged. "I suppose I'll tell them now."

Matt put out a hand and grabbed Andy by the shoulder as he was walking off. He took up Andy's folder and said, "Come on. Let's tell them."

Andy didn't look at him, but the small smile on his face as he slid his arm around Matt's waist was enough.

 

* * *

 

Matt is still being fretful on the sofa as Andy potters about the place. Everyone is more concerned over Matt than anything else, for, after the initial shock, it seems as if Matt's giving all his mellow vibes to Andy and taking the uptight ones. Andy is shockingly relaxed, at least for now. He's _humming. All the time._

"Is there... are there pickles?" Andy yells from the kitchen. "I don't see any pickles."

"You ate them all!" Kyle yells and then says in a much lowered voice, "Oh man, he's like a fucking vacuum cleaner. I think he's putting it on, seriously."

"How about the wholewheat crackers?" Andy bellows. "I left them right here, where are they?"

"You ate those too!"

"I did?" Andy comes back out and he looks just about the same, no shirt at all and loose black basketball shorts that Matt is sure is his. He's just as skinny as ever, despite his ravenous appetite; his stomach is deceptively flat.

And, because Andy is a fucking _mutant_ , oh god help us all, there's a little human being inside there there somewhere, and it's already close to two months old.

"Dude," Matt croaks, shifting his arm to peer at Andy, "Aren't you supposed to be wearing a shirt or something?"

"I'm having a baby, Mixon," Andy replies blithely, roaming back towards the kitchen as Ashlee yells something about finding a box of crackers; Matt's heart threatens to simply stop in the middle of his chest at his matter-of-fact tone. "I'm not suffering from hypothermia."

"Oh my god," Matt says and squeezes his eyes shut.

"It's going to be _totally_ fine," Pete says with enthusiasm and he shifts his own young son from one hip to the other. Baby Wentz is at that stage where the whole world is still Wicked Awesome and boggles at everything in sight. "Look! You'll get one just like mine!" As if he'd bought the baby in the supermarket. Matt isn't comforted at all, because it's _Pete_. Maybe if Patrick said it...

"Say it's going to be fine, Patrick," Matt begs.

"Um... it's going to be fine?"

"Thank you, man. Thank you."

Ashlee is still in the kitchen, rummaging around noisily, claiming that she's going to cook and Pete better come in and help her, or else. Matt thought that Andy would have kicked up a stink about someone messing around his kitchen, but he simply shrugged and went, "Okay," and that alone told Matt that everything had changed.

"Are you gonna puke?" Joe asks with far too much interest, watching Matt rub his chest uncomfortably. "I got the puke-bag thingy right here for you, my friend."

"I'm not going to puke," Matt groans. "He's having my baby. I'm going to _die_."

"You're not going to die," Andy says through a mouthful of crackers; the box clutched in his hands appears to belong to Stu, who opens his mouth to protest, and then closes it again. Pregnant dude trumps all, apparently. "You're going to be a father. You're going to do a good enough job, I guess."

" _Patrick_ ," Matt groans.

"It'll be great," Patrick says hastily. "You'll do _just fine_."

 

***

 

"Matt. Do me a favour and stop the fucking hovering."

"Don't you fucking curse around my kid," Matt hisses, his hand under Andy's elbow as they walk very slowly up the stairs. Matt had actually tried to carry him, but Andy had pushed him away, frowning; so Matt had gripped onto his elbow quite firmly and refused to let go. "For fuck's sake, don't curse."

"Matt, just... could you just relax?"

"Relax!" Matt feels as if he's ready to hyperventilate and Andy looks up at him, blinking. "How can I relax! The doctor says you're in a super delicate state right now--"

"He didn't say that, you're making shit up. All I'm saying, is that I'm just going upstairs. I don't need an escort."

"Just let him walk, he can walk!" Stu hollers from the kitchen. "Matt, stop being such a fucking worrywart!"

"Don't fucking curse around my kid!" Matt screams back and oh god, his head is hurting so much. His blood-pressure was _really_ high yesterday when they went to see that tiny doctor that Pete had under a grim legal lock-down. The doctor had said Andy was doing great, for a medical miracle and so forth... and he pointed out that Matt needed to relax, while Andy had smirked triumphantly.

Fuck them all.

"Okay." Andy sighs wryly, stopping at the sixth step up, the one that creaks a little. "If it's going to make you feel better, you can carry me."

" _Finally_." Matt bends down and swings Andy up in his arms, as carefully as he can. Andy sighs again, but he's completely relaxed, his back warm against Matt's arm. He's _still_ not showing, because he's naturally as thin as a rail, and tiny to boot and Matt's worried that the baby will be too small when it's ready to be born. Maybe it'll be premature. Maybe something will be wrong and they'll have to literally _live_ at the hospital, peering at the baby through a plastic shield as the monitors beep. Maybe Andy might go into a coma or something, and Matt will have to sit at his bedside with a really long face and maybe ask his mom to send some food because he's wasting away--

Andy smacks him upside the back of the head.

"You have that look on your face, like you're going to cry or something," Andy points out when Matt stumbles a little, nearly dropping him.

"Yeah, could you not give me a concussion while I'm carrying you? Thanks, Hurley." Matt pushes open the door to Andy's bedroom, crossing over to the neatly made bed and depositing Andy on it with the gentleness of one putting down a bag of precious diamonds. Andy squirms, trying to get up and Matt pushes him down by the shoulder.

"Mixon, I'm going to break your fucking arm if you don't relax, man, don't think I can't do it," Andy says in exasperation and Matt frowns. "What the hell is wrong with you!"

"What the hell is wrong with _you_! Anything can happen!" Matt releases his shoulder, sitting down beside him and moving his hands around in large, worried circles. "You think it's easy for someone to be pregnant? You think this is--"

Andy sits up, puts his arms around Matt's neck and kisses his cheek. Matt closes his eyes and breathes out slowly.

"Hey," Andy whispers, trying to sound sultry; it's nowhere _near_ sultry, maybe on the border of _cajoling_ and _threatening_ , but Matt still appreciates the effort. "Since we're up here--"

"No!" Matt's eyelids fly open and he pulls back, feeling horrified. "Hell no. No way."

"I asked the doctor," Andy says with an innocent blink. "And I know you have all that pregnant porn on your laptop."

"No, I don't," Matt denies hurriedly, making a mental note to change the password to his laptop and not give it to Andy. He'll probably completely forget this mental note and give Andy anyway, but it's nice to pretend sometimes. "No way. The baby--"

"Is fine." Andy crowds up closer, trailing one hand down Matt's shoulder. "It's me you should be worried about."

"I'm worried, like all the time," Matt mutters. "Maybe you haven't seen me, I dunno--"

"Come _on_ ," Andy urges and then kind of pounces on Matt, who makes a muffled squeak as he's pushed down, looking up at Andy in shock. Andy rolls his eyes and unceremoniously shoves his hand down Matt's shorts. "Jeez, don't act like you don't want it."

"I don't!" Matt howls and silently curses his cock, which comes to delighted attention as soon Andy delicately strokes the warm, hard length of it.

Andy goes, "Oh, hello there," in a crooning voice and licks Matt's cheek. "Let's get it on, Mixon."

"Your sweet nothings are completely inspiring," Matt says flatly, and he's basically manhandled across the bed, his clothes yanked off and his dick slicked up eagerly. He curls into a tight ball of naked and worries aloud as Andy hurriedly preps himself, kneeling at the other end of the bed and moaning softly. "Look, what if something happens to... you know, _Junior_."

Andy, who is now trying push Matt's taller frame into position so he can wriggle underneath and wrap his legs around him, stops and stares at Matt for a long time before bursting into laughter.

"Junior!" He's snickering as Matt huffs in annoyance, crawling over to push Andy's legs apart and up. "Oh, man, Junio- _ohh_ , ok yes. Mmm, that's it."

"What if I'm, like, hurting the baby?" Matt frets, but this doesn't stop him from sliding in and out slowly. Andy arches up, smiling even as he closes his eyes in satisfaction. "And, ok, what if I--"

"No more talking, please," Andy groans, writhing and grasping onto Matt's shoulders. "Junior is fine. Shut up and do your job."

Matt shuts up. At one point, he opens his mouth to voice another concern, a really valid one, _really_ ; but Andy's heated glare makes him fold his lips in and get back to business.

 

* * *

 

Ashlee has this really bad habit nowadays of handing over the Wentzlet to Matt as soon as she and Pete troop into Fuck City.

"Here, get some practice," she explains and Matt holds the baby gingerly. If Patrick or Joe happen to be there, Matt would pass the baby on like a hot potato; Patrick doesn't mind at all, he _loves_ carrying his godson around. Matt tried giving the baby to Andy once, and had received an extremely scornful stare.

"I'm carrying one around already," Andy had told him pointedly. "Don't give him to me."

"You need to learn," Matt said, as the Wentzlet's chubby little hands grabbed his nose.

" _You_ need to learn," Andy countered childishly, even as he was being dragged off by Ashlee to contemplate pregnant stuff. "You'll be the one at home with the kid all the time anyway, while I'm on tour."

"Oh god," Matt had complained in a very loud voice, "he's making me a stay-at-home dad."

"Let's see, you take care of the house, you feed the rest of us and you tuck us into bed. Sometimes you say things like, ' _Wait 'til Andy gets home_ '." Kyle had tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, I'd say you were one _already_."

Matt had almost forgotten he had the baby in his hands and not a huge rock, he nearly brained Kyle with the poor kid.

But today, Matt has a plan.

Ok, it's not really a plan; it's just him acting like he's going to walk past Hurley with an armful of Wentzlet, going, "Oh, hey!" and simply dumping the child in Andy's arms. The most important part of this plan is running like the wind, and this is where Matt's height is put to good use, because he's out of the kitchen as if there are wild hogs at his heels.

"Matt!" Andy yells in frustration and Matt peeks in from the living room; Andy is holding the baby at arms' length, scowling. The baby swings his little legs and coos, but obviously, Andy's cold cold heart is not moved at all.

"No, you need to hold him _closer_." Patrick is walking in, holding out his arms. Matt darts after him, snagging him by the hood of his jacket and dragging him away from the kitchen. "Hey! What the fuck!"

"I'm trying to get Hurley all paternal," Matt hisses. "Don't cross me, Stump."

"Oh for crying out loud," Patrick says and stalks off.

"Matt," Andy says in a very low and dangerous voice. "Matt, I'm not going to tell you again. Come get this baby."

"Isn't he the cutest!" Matt coaxes from a safe distance. "He's so awesome! Do some cuddling, Hurley!"

"He smells funny," Andy observes. "He might need changing."

Matt gags and goes, " _Ewww_."

Pete walks in the room from the back-patio and Andy holds out his beloved firstborn son, his darling only child, to him. "Pete, I think he needs a new diaper?"

"Eww," Pete says and bolts back outside.

Andy sighs and tucks the Wentzlet in the crook of his arm, telling him that his father is a stupid man as he goes upstairs to find Ashlee; Matt pumps a fist in the air, for this is a _win_.

 

* * *

 

"Is the nausea still apparent?" The tiny old doctor, whose name is Dr. Samson, asks as he peers over his glasses. The ultrasound technician is staring at Andy fixedly, her mouth wide, even though she's not needed in the room anymore. Dr. Samson rolls his eyes; he does that a lot.

"Oh, yeah," Matt answers before Andy can. "Mostly in the mornings, but it's not so bad. No vomiting, though."

"How about cramping?"

"Oh, I had this really painful cramp in my leg last night--"

"Not you, Mr. Hurley," Dr. Samson sighs. Matt and Andy look at each other in surprise and then return their gazes to the doctor.

"I'm Hurley, he's _Mixon_ ," Andy explains and the doctor's patented disapproving look dawns on his face. Matt thinks, _damn you just can't please this guy, can't you_.

"He's Andy Hurley," the technician whispers faintly. "From this.. this _band_ \--"

"Yes, yes, I'm aware of that, and if you know what's good for you, you'd better remember the amount of papers Mr. Wentz made you sign. You probably signed away your soul and didn't know it," Dr. Samson snaps rudely. It's a pity he's the best in his field, dealing with difficult pregnancies. "Now, where were we."

"Why can't _he_ be Mr. Mixon?" Matt wonders aloud. "I mean, I'm taller."

"I earn more."

"I'm cuter."

"Point," Andy concedes with a grin that is surprisingly sweet and Matt kind of leans closer to him, smiling back.

"Andy... _Hurley_ ," the technician whispers and fans herself with one hand.

"As you can see from the ultrasound images," Dr. Samson says loudly, pushing the fuzzy black photos over the surface of his large, highly polished table, "your child is growing at a normal, healthy rate."

Matt takes one of the ultrasound pictures and looks at it very carefully. Then he spins it around, still peering in puzzlement and Andy laughs.

 

* * *

Mostly, Andy thinks the whole pregnancy thing goes pretty much okay. His stomach gets round and taut and he feels so uncomfortable and cranky, but Matt... Matt does such things as spoon right against Andy's back when they sleep, so that his hips don't feel so fucked up, his big brown hand splayed across Andy's stomach. He reads more books than _Andy_ does and they talk a lot. Well, they always talk together about random shit, and it's more of the same, only baby-related.

Joe likes to put his hands on Andy's stomach as well, making soft noises that sometimes make Andy smile and sometimes annoys him to no end. Once, when Andy was lounging in the sofa, Joe actually yelped when the baby moved against his curious hands, shouting, "The baby's kicking!" Matt literally shoved Joe out of the way and knelt down in front of Andy, fingers touching the stretched skin tentatively.

"Does that a lot nowadays," Andy muttered, making a face as the baby did something acrobatic, like a few backflips.

"Oh, wow," Matt had said and his smile had appeared a little damp at the eyes.

Sometimes, it simply _blows_. "You look like a toothpick stuck through the side of an apple," Stu says unfeelingly one day; Andy throws a glass at his head and stomps upstairs to kick around a drumkit; after a few minutes of a clumsy, pregnant version of the Hulksmash, Matt opens the door slowly, carrying the Wentzlet as insurance.

"So." Matt purses his lips as he surveys the damage. "Wow. Um, you know he's kind of right, you're this skinny little dude with this massive potbelly. That's just how it is. Wait, remember I have this kid in my hand," Matt says hurriedly as Andy turns to look at him with murder in his eyes. "You don't want to hurt Patrick's godson, he might shank you."

"When was the last time I got out of this house," Andy says in a low, tortured voice. "I mean, I haven't been on tour because I'm 'sick'. You wouldn't even let me go to that secret show they had at AK last week. I'm going crazy, and I want this kid out of me. Now. Or... or, just let me out."

"Andy, someone might see--"

"Who cares! The fucking _Enquirer_ 's been speculating, let everyone know. Fuck," he mutters morosely and ran his hands through his hair, which looked wilder than ever. Matt looks sympathetic, but says nothing, just steps close to envelope him in a hug. Much later, when the soft moonlight floods their bedroom and all of Fuck City (inclusive of adult visitors and one small child that fusses nearly all the night) is fast asleep, Matt wakes Andy up and makes him put on a pair of sneakers and Matt's own Black Mixon hoodie.

They step outside into the quiet night and Andy takes a deep breath of chilly air. It's quiet and calm and Andy has to walk with his palm pressed to the small of his back, practically waddling along the sidewalk of their quiet little community.

"Okay?" Matt links arms with him, his eyes watchful as they make their way slowly through the night.

"Okay," Andy replies, and the waddling is totally not cool, but he just can't stop smiling.

 

 _**Epilogue** _

"Baby!" The Wentzlet declares with confidence as he sits on the loveseat in Matt's bedroom beside Matt, who is cradling his daughter and yawning. He really needs to stop thinking about Pete's kid as the Wentzlet, because now he's musing about his own kid as The Hurleyite, or the Mixonette. Pete's son is called Brody and his daughter's name is Anet (not _Annette_ , because Matt wanted to be different and Andy had still been knocked out and couldn't counter him). Matt thinks that his kid is far prettier than Pete's, so there.

"I'll take her bottle back into the kitchen," Andy says, getting up and scratching at the side of his ribs as he stumbles out. There's a long slender scar in the middle of his stomach; Andy claims he wants to put a new tattoo there, something nice for Anet; it's kind of fitting, since it will be right below his MOM tattoo.

"Baby," Brody says again and touches one of Anet's tiny feet gently. Anet frowns and tenses a little, then relaxes with her little mouth slack. She's so tiny but she's a _fighter_ ; obviously, she takes after Andy. After the operation, Dr. Samson had been worried that she wouldn't have made it and Matt's nightmare of spending time at the hospital had come true, even the part about his mother sending food, but not the part about Andy getting trapped in a coma, because he had come to stare at their daughter with his mouth set in a grim line; but she's here now and she's perfect. She's absolutely _perfect_.

"Hey, Anet," Matt whispers to her as Andy comes back and settles back into the loveseat, curling against him. He can hear the rest of the house making too much noise downstairs, and he's going to go down in about four minutes and tell them off, but right now he's talking to his baby and just chilling, marveling over the shock of red hair and the stubborn tilt of her nose. Brody cranes close and smiles down at her happily. "I have no idea what to do, so just be patient with your dads, ok?"

"We'll be okay," Andy says tiredly, snuggling right up against Matt's side and breathing as if he's asleep already. Anet stretches and Matt's heart is not his anymore, at least, the part that hasn't been stamped _Hurley_ all over by now. "We'll be fine."


End file.
